


Minerva and the 100 prompts

by Ysilme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysilme/pseuds/Ysilme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva McGonagall, seen through 100 small glimpses covering her entire life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drabbles 1-10

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Einhundert Mal Minerva](https://archiveofourown.org/works/183049) by [Ysilme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysilme/pseuds/Ysilme). 



> This is a translation of my take on the 100-Drabble-Challenge, claiming the character of Minerva McGonagall. The challenge is being held at my German forum, Alraune, using a table of prompts we created there. The original challenge is already finished, but the translation will take more time.  
> As per our rules, a regular secondary character may be in up to 40 drabbles for it to still count as a single person claim. 
> 
> I know that in the English-speaking Harry Potter fandom, a drabble often is a very short story, whereas the exact word count of 100 is not as important. This is different in the German-speaking fandom, where a drabble is bound to the word count of 100 - or it's not a drabble.  
> My language skills are not sufficient to reach this goal in English, so even if my drabbles have the exact count in German, they won't in English. As I don't want to change the content of each text, and want to keep the flow of the language as close to the original as possible, I'm settling for a translation close to content and flow, but not hitting the word count requirement. I hope you will find some pleasure in reading despite that. 
> 
> Many, many thanks to Moira of the Mountain who kindly and diligently helped me making proper English out of my ventures into translation (though we both do not claim to be masters of the punctuation marks, typos or other mistakes), and to Kelly Chambliss, giving a thorough final polishing!

**Minerva and the 100 prompts**

_by Alcina vom Steinsberg_

oOoOo

_prompt 49: cat_

**1\. Sensation**

A feeling of – well, of what, exactly?

Unable to describe it, she found it wonderful and different from anything else she knew.

Exceptional, gorgeous, breathtaking.

Large becoming small, hard becoming soft, stiff becoming lithe.

Able limbs stretching and unbending after the exertion.

She sniffs. Odd, that smell, something like – no, she doesn't know it. Strange.

She squints. How different everything looks now. The world in a new guise.

She listens. New sounds, unfamiliar but fascinating.

She gets up. Yawns. Lolls. Lifts her head. Senses a draft.

Indeed, she likes it.

She smiles.

Wonderful, this feline body.

 

oOoOo

_prompt 11: potatoe_

**2\. Hunger**

Minerva sniffed. What a delicious smell! Her stomach rumbled audibly. She had been ignoring it far too long.

With a sigh, she focused her attention once more on her marking. She was almost finished and wanted to complete her task by all means.

Again, a mouth-watering smell reached her nostrils. Minerva sniffed again and gave up.

In the kitchen, she found her darling diligently stirring a cauldron of something which smelled decidedly like her favourite, cock-a-leekie soup. Stepping close, she embraced him from behind.

„Nearly done", he smiled and leaned back into her. „I know you never can resist this one."

 

oOoOo

_prompt 25: ginger_

**3\. Bless you!**

„Atchoo!"

The air was jolted by a loud sneeze, followed by the blare of a nose being blown.

Minerva squinted at the bright red nose and the small mountain of used hankies. Poor dear, this was already the third cold this winter!

Fetching a cup, she filled it from her own thermos. Warily, he sniffed at the pale brew.

„My special recipe", she smiled. „Take an inch of ginger root, slice thinly, simmer for ten minutes and sweeten with honey. It works miracles, try it!"

Severus moaned.

„Minerva, spare me your damn ginger tea! Even if it cures death, I cannot abide it."

 

oOoOo

_prompt 99: learning  
_

**4.Tired**

Dumbledore peered through his lashes. There she sat, motionless, staring at her hands, tired, exhausted.

He knew she felt as though he was always watching her, so mostly, he pretended to be asleep. She still needed to learn not to be bothered by his constant presence, particularly since she wanted neither his advice nor help.

He knew this so well, having had the same experience – oh, so such a long time ago!

Sometimes, he regretted having burdened her with this responsibility. She had a hard time bearing the weight of this position. But she endured, using every ounce of her wisdom and her strength, and she did it well. Better than he ever had, he thought.

 

oOoOo

 

_prompt 89: grief  
_

**5\. Mourning  
**

She stands looking down at his grave. In her hand, she holds a white rose, his favourite colour. Biting her lips, she clenches her hand around the flower, crushing it. What does it matter. What right does this flower have to live, when his life is over? Gone forever, irrevocably.

Her heart seems made of glass, in danger of shattering at the slightest touch, her soul like ice. How can she possibly live now, when all that was dearest to her is gone?

With icy fingers, she shreds the rose, petal by petal, leaf by leaf. The pieces fall to the ground, resting on all the others, old and new, dried and fresh, each one a memory of the pain that sears her heart.

oOoOo

 

_prompt 16: horse  
_

**6\. Never!**

„No ! Absolutely not ! There is NOTHING that would get me on the back of that _creature_!"

Minerva couldn't help grinning at the sight of Severus, frothing at the mouth when confronted with the intended means of transport.  
„Are you afraid?" she teased.

„Of course not! Mounting this – _animal_ – is simply beneath any self-respecting wizard. The obvious choice would be apparating."

„That's impossible, and you know it. There are muggles everywhere we turn, and you're the one who wants to reach the top of that mountain."

„It's not a question of want, it's one of need. The calamint I require only grows at the top of that peak. It's hardly my fault the Muggles decided to establish their bloody nature preserve on the same spot, now is it?"

With a laugh, Minerva tethered the horses up again.  
„All right, then, be stubborn, but it's going to mean quite the hike for both of us."

 

oOoOo

_prompt 30: peppermint  
_

**7.  Togetherness  
**

Slowly, Minerva ambled in Severus's wake, enjoying the fine day in his company, now that his mood was much improved. How typical of him, though, to be so stubborn.

„Minerva, look! There it is, the Welsh calamint."

Squatting beside him, she listened as yet another plant was explained to her. She didn't care that much about botany, to be honest. But there was sheer joy in listening to him talk about something he loved, extolling characteristics and magical properties.

Even better was seeing Severus so relaxed and happy, oblivious to his surroundings, so different from the self he usually showed.

 

oOoOo

_prompt 48: floral wreath  
_

**8\. Summer  
**

Severus crouched, engrossed by some seemingly unimpressive plant, his sensitive fingers gently exploring its stems and leaves. He was lost in a world of his own.

An amused smile crossed Minerva's face. Her fingers, no less adept, picked marguerites, bluebells, dropwort, and whatever blossomed around her. Skillfully, she shaped a wreath, fragrant and ablaze with colours, the image of summer.

Without a sound, she crept up behind him, her gentle hands pressing the wreath onto his head.

Severus startled, biting back an annoyed exclamation. Seeing her mischievous grin, his irritation melted like butter in the sun.

~ ~ ~

 **A/N:** „Melting like butter in the sun" is a German expression, but I suppose it doesn't need an explanation.

 

oOoOo

_prompt 76: love  
_

**9\. Competition  
**

Wary fingers felt for what she had put on his head, his displeasure changing into amazed delight. Never before had he been given something so innocent and beautiful. A smile brightened his face.

Suddenly a forceful emotion swept through Minerva, familiar, yet strangely new where Severus was concerned. A feeling of tenderness and contentment, an unquenchable urge to be close to this impossible man, so close she would become one with him, heart and soul, no barriers between them.

„Severus", she whispered huskily, her throat tight with passion and desire, reaching for him.

 

oOoOo

_prompt 03: meadow  
_

**10.  Freedom  
**

The sun climbed higher and higher, warming the two shapes stretched out on the cool grass. The herbs and roots to be collected, the reason for the visits, all were forgotten. Only the here and now was important, this precious bubble of time, filled with foolish teasing and soft kisses. Then came the peaceful silence.

Propped on her elbow, Minerva smiled at the sleeping shape of her beloved. Never before she had seen him so relaxed, so much at ease. Never before had she herself felt so young, so alive and so free.

 

oOoOo


	2. Drabbles 11-20

**Drabbles 11-20**

oOoOo

_prompt 92: wand_

**11: A New Friend**

Minerva shifted excitedly from foot to foot. How she had yearned for this very day! Nervously, she watched the little man surveying one slim box after the other and putting them all back onto the shelves. Then, finally, he brought one of the boxes over.

„Here we are, Miss McGonagall. Try this one!"

Awestruck, she closed her fingers around the slim piece of wood. Sudden warmth was flowing through her and a pulsing like a large wave, and she felt a little as if she was flying. The wood in her hand seemed to become one with her skin.

Mr. Ollivander was pleased. „Cherry-wood with a core of cat's whiskers. Perfect."  
  


 **A/N:** Of course, cat's whiskers do have magical properties. Pity this lore has somehow fallen into oblivion...

Heartfelt thanks to Mountainmoira and Kelly Chambliss for Betaing!

oOoOo

_prompt 50: spider_

**12: Pity!**

Startled, Minerva came to a halt, gawping the enormous beast right under her nose. It was somehow familiar and still so strange... She needed a moment to realize that another perspective turned things well-known into something entirely new.

Her whiskers trembling with excitement, she explored the strange creature. In her human form, she was frightened of the species, but her feline self simply found it fascinating. So many legs... she wondered whether it would be tasty.

Suddenly, she felt her hunting instinct overwhelming every other thought. She lifted her paw to bring down her prey, but batted only emptiness.

Disappointed, her eyes followed the spider scurrying away. What a pity.

oOoOo

_prompt 12: robes_

**13: Unfamiliar**

Minerva gazed critically at her reflection in the mirror.

The new robe looked heavenly, but she was unsure whether the fashion was too modern for her and probably too youthful as well.

She smoothed an exploring hand over the heavy, dark green silk, her fingers leaving darker trails on the iridescent cloth. She wanted to be beautiful for him, even though he didn't care much about looks. But not for all the tea in China would she risk the smallest chance of looking ridiculous. Hence her hesitation.

But then... the style was very practical, too, and Muggle women wore this all the time, even if they were her age.

She raised her head with determination. She looked perfect, so why not?

oOoOo

_prompt 68: hair_

**14: Change**

Tibby the house-elf stepped back and looked with satisfaction at the elaborate hairdo before her.

"Beautiful, Miss Minnie!"

Minerva nodded with a smile. Yes, she was indeed beautiful. Long since she she'd begun to ignore the small lines, the few grey hairs, and slack skin... She wasn't twenty any more, nor fifty, either. But clear eyes, a fresh complexion, and shining hair told their own tale, and the dignity of her years suited her well. Today, everyone would be able to notice.

Legs clad in jet-black stockings slipped into high-heeled pumps. Odd, this unfamiliar cut of the robe, not only asserting her figure to its best, but also revealing a long-standing secret: witches also had legs.

It was high time to introduce the mini-skirt to the magical world.

oOoOo

_prompt 81: phoenix_

**15: Happy Birthday!**

Smiling, Minerva unwrapped her birthday presents. Never before there had been so many of them. But then, fifty was a rather special age to reach.

One parcel, gaudily wrapped in red-violet paper, caught her attention. This had to be from Albus, she thought, reading the card and undoing the Muggle cello-tape.

Gently, her fingers caressed the curved, flamboyant feather in bright reds and golds that was lying in the slim wooden box. Perfect for a Gryffindor and certainly the most beautiful feather she had ever seen. A quill from Fawkes! And a bottle of the finest emerald ink to go with it, her favourite colour.

 _Oh, Albus,_ she thought with affection, _this is the loveliest present I have ever been given._

oOoOo

_prompt 53: fire_

**16: Contemplation**

Pensively, Minerva stared into the fire.

So long since they exchanged clandestine gazes.  
So long since she secretly observed him, knowing he did the same.  
Did he know what she was thinking? Feel what she felt? Did he feel the same in the end?

No, she admonished herself. That was impossible. She was simply imagining things.

She was so much older, so different from him, and she had been his teacher after all. Not to speak of the old House rivalry …  
Unthinkable, that he should be able to see her as more than a colleague, that he could feel more than friendship for her.

Minerva finished her drink and got up, and then her eye was caught by a warm smile.

oOoOo

_prompt 02: battlement_

**17: Renewal**

The heavy door opened with a creak. A slim shape stepped up to the tower's crenellations.  
  
Clear, cold air enfolded her like a cloak, while her gaze swept over the landscape beyond.   
The trees were still bare, and in some places, snow remained. But the first Snowdrops had already come out, as well as the catkins on the shore, and the birds sang their joy to the day. Finally, spring had come.   
  
Like every year at this day, when the sunbeams gave their first warmth, she bid her private goodbye to winter. It was time for a new circle of life, of living and growing, of birth and beginning.   
  
How fitting that today was Good Friday. 

oOoOo

_prompt 18: Great Hall_

**18:  Happy Easter!**

The great hall was resplendent in festive, Easter décor; Professor Flitwick beaming with pride of his work – as usual a masterly proof of his prowess. Minerva admitted that he had outdone himself.   
  
The floor was replaced by a lush lawn with daffodils and hyacinths sprouting everywhere, and one had to be careful not to step onto the little nests, filled with eggs and sweets, that were spread out for the children. The furniture had changed into tree trunks, and everything gave the impression of a lovely picnic out of doors.   
  
_With all due respect and willingness to cooperate,_ Minerva thought with a morose look at the Headmaster, _I refuse to participate. It could be Easter thrice over, but I'm not dressing up like the Easter Bunny._

oOoOo

_prompt 64: tart_

**19: Breakfast**

Minerva surveyed the table before her with a pleased eye. All summer, the breakfast served had been rather simple, since only a few people remained at the school. On this first school-day, though, the fare was back to its usual abundance, the house-elves having surpassed themselves once again. Porridge, bacon and eggs, sausages, tomatoes and baked beans, pancakes and waffles, kippers and cold cuts – everything one could wish for was there and then some.  
  
Pouring herself a cup of tea, she reached for a plate. No matter how bountiful the table – for her, there was nothing better than toast and the tart, fruity flavour of marmalade. 

oOoOo

_prompt 78: child_

**20: The Foreigner**

Surprised, Minnie looked up. Her mother was calling, a strange creature at her side. It was about her own size, but – that wasn't a child, was it?   
  
Its head was much too large and bald, with funny, wrinkly skin, enormous eyes, and pointy ears to boot.  
  
“This is Tibby, the house-elf”, her mother introduced the other. “She will be looking after you.”  
  
Minnie nodded and advanced hesitantly, intimidated by the stranger.   
  
A merry twinkle took away her fear, and with a smile, she held out her hand.   
  


oOoOo

**Author's Note:**

> Published April 2010 - 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse and its characters are intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a short while and promise to give them back unharmed.


End file.
